


Has Distance Blurred the Lines

by PaolaWarbler



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1582286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaolaWarbler/pseuds/PaolaWarbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had too many feels. And I promised myself that I would still write post-Reichenbach even after TEH. So here’s a post-Reichenbach fic based on “The Only One” by: James Blunt. (Which totally captures Johnlock.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Has Distance Blurred the Lines

Sherlock woke up once again to the screaming echoing in his ears. “SHERLOCK!” He scrubbed his hands over his face. He looked out the window. Russia was beautiful at this time of year and filled with crimes that Sherlock could have his pick from but he was focused on one thing. He had to kill Moriarty’s gang stationed here. He swept a hand through his dyed blonde hair. He stood up from the cot he was sleeping in. He stood near the window and looked down the window. St. Petersburg was flashing beneath him but with all its grandeur and beauty, he only wished for the quaint, dark sigh of Baker Street. _“That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done.” John breathlessly laughed. “And you invaded Afghanistan.” Sherlock’s breathless reply came back._ Sherlock shook his head. The memories came flooding back. 

_“No! No! No! He can’t be the father. Look at the butterfly pin on his cardigan.” Sherlock yelled at the telly while John read The Hobbit next to him._

_John shot him a look. “You know you should get on the show.”_

_Sherlock rolled his eyes. “This Jerry Springer doesn’t have any idea! What kind of paternal tests are they doing? I bet the percentage error is very high for them.” Just as the screen changed to show two drag queens fighting it out, Sherlock changed the channel. John looked up at the introduction for Star Trek came on. He raced over to Sherlock’s chair and plucked the remote out of his hands._

_“Scoot over.” John demanded. Sherlock huffed out a breath but scooted a bit on the chair._

_Five minutes in and Sherlock took in a breath to explain how none of this could’ve actually happened. John just clamped his hand over Sherlock’s mouth and watched as William Shatner explored new worlds in the U.S.S. Enterprise. Sherlock stayed quiet even after John’s hand slid off his face. Sherlock watched John’s face became more and more engrossed in the story line. Sherlock took the time to go over a face he’s memorized numerous times. The lights from the telly flickered over his face, making shadows that played over John’s features._

Sherlock opened his eyes, not realizing he closed them in the first place. He sighed as he felt that same aching gnawing feeling in his gut that he’s felt since he left on a plane away from England. He would give anything to be back in Baker Street watching one of John’s ridiculous shows. He just wanted to feel John sitting next to him and hear his breathing. Sherlock just wanted his eyes to roam over the face that he’s memorized. He hated this feeling in his gut. He’s never felt it before and it took him a while to understand what it was. He was feeling loneliness, guilt and pain. He never felt that before because he’s never felt anything for anyone. But now, he’s feeling all these strong emotions all because of one man, one soldier, one doctor. He wishes he could tell John what he’s feeling and tell him that Baker Street wasn’t his home, John was. John was his home, he realized. He always had been.

_“You were the best man and the most human…human being I’ve ever known. And no one will ever convince me you told me a lie. I was so alone and I owe you so much. Please, there’s just one thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don’t be…dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it, stop this.”_

Sherlock felt a ripping pain go through him at the sound of John’s broken voice, echoing in his mind. He remembered standing a few feet away from the man who begged him to come back. He remembered the speech and the painful realization he made afterward. Sherlock always hated to admit it, even to himself. But since there’s no one around, he whispered quietly. “I’m so sorry, John. I’m so stupid but I love you.” He shook his head and turned around, knowing no one would hear him. But he just wanted John to hear it. If only he said it before…but could’ve, should’ve, would’ve. Sherlock sighed and laid back down on his cot.

_“What I said before, John, I meant it. I don’t have friends. Just got one.” Sherlock ran across the yard to John but instead of saying, “You are fantastic. You are amazing.” He just stopped John in his tracks and kissed him softly. And miraculously, John kissed back._

Sherlock smiled softly and soon, the only sound in the dingy, dark room was Sherlock’s soft breathing.


End file.
